Jeremy condenses clothing at a rate of one shirt to a pant leg,
elevating bodies from their usual dust,
while the usual wind, Jeremy thinks, regardless of their gender throws
their scarves out in a line behind them
pointing north. Jeremy, enthralled, takes walks outside the factory,
where bodies shuffle in a dull rain.
Jeremy in pants is masterful-Jeremy, Jeremy
holds nothing down.
A man riding a male bicycle, thinks Jeremy, who glides now
in the middle of the street.
He turns a coin up face-first in the gutter. The wind outside of Jeremy.
Moves him, Jeremy.
Eventually it will come together like a rock field. Jeremiah strung
his topic sentence lengthwise, starting at the yellow fire hydrant ending
in a point which he kept hidden out of sight, which might've been
a point in time it was so far from what we knew to be the present
with its gluttony, its waiting, its fist-pounding and cufflinks.
Jeremiah paused. A sudden wet latitude spindled from his middle-brow,
the tip of it engulfing in a brown rain. The village steamed up to him.
Speech-writers careened through dirt streets. Jeremiah heard
a shout from somewhere sounding like another Jeremiah, but his speech
was luminous and single, unmistakable, thought Jeremiah. Permanence
began to sound like politics. Especially
in this damage, Jeremiah thought.
Nouns step furiously out of something sounding under Michael,
smoothing from his forehead to the wrinkles underneath.
Michael in the past had been a gauntlet, Michael felt
that he was thrown at someone with a curse. Now,
whispers Michael, now I am cut loose. Michael downs
the contents of an off-red bottle, where the false-white
sky boils over into red leather.
Man goes shopping in the morning forgets fire, goes back-hoe for it, Man
feels upward, finds his God in solar dirt, cuts dirt
delivers God headfirst and holy, Man breaks bread from supermarket
breakfasts, clears his plate gives thanks inside his car
sweeps steps and driveway, pours a glass and chalks it down
gives more thanks pulls his collar open, Man, his collar
and the blunt of sun-light Man gives thanks for
cars his colors, mans the metal blade to scrape the butter from
his breakfast Man gives thanks for butter, breakfast, blade.